Hermione's Turn
by potato4
Summary: "I'll call it... SPBFW!" "Bless you."/ "I thought you were taking us to dinner, not a bloody Hogwarts reunion!"/ "YOU KILLED NEMO!"/ It's Hermione turn to pick where the Trio goes to dinner, and she picks a fancy restaurant. Funny parody fic. R/R!


A/N- Let me just tell you now: THIS WAS NEARLY ALL WRITTEN IN A SIX-HOUR CAR DRIVE IN WHICH I WAS EXTREMEMLY BORED OUT OF MY MIND.

It IS a parody-ish fic, in which Harry is very OOC. But it's lots of fun. Very fast-paced, but funny and a great way to rid your system of angst.

Warning: Blaise/Luna, slight Snape/McGonagall and VERY slight Anastasya-Hermione/Draco. (You'll understand once you read.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hermione's Turn

"Alright, now remember, this is a _nice_ restaurant, and I _don't_ want you to make fools out of yourselves," Hermione Granger stood outside a set of crystal-like double doors, confronting her two best friends.

Ron rolled his eyes and leaned into the man next to him. "See, Harry, this is why I told you we shouldn't have let her pick the place this week."

Harry pulled at the collar of his fancy shirt and shrugged. "Sorry, but it _was_ her turn."

Hermione opened one door. "Okay, now _behave_."

A man with a slightly upturned nose and an extremely uptight demeanor was standing behind the desk. "Reservations?"

"Granger, Hermione Granger."

The man peered above his reservation book. "Oh," he said in a bored tone. "Well, if it isn't the Savior Three."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. The 'Savior Three' was a joking nickname the Ravenclaws had given Harry, Ron and herself after the war. "Do I know you?"

"I'm Blaise Zabini. Slytherin in your year. Doubt you remember me."

Ron stepped forward. "I know you- you were one of Malfoy's buddies."

Blaise sniffed. "I don't prefer the word _buddy_, but-"

"Can we just be seated now?" Harry asked.

"I'd be _more_ than happy- Miss Lovegood?"

A tall woman with a high blonde ponytail skipped forward. Earrings in the shape of sparkling purple spirals hung from her ears and swung as she bounced. "Harry? Ron? Hermione?"

"Oh…" Ron said faintly. "Luna's our waitress."

"Right this way," she said happily. "Well, I simply haven't seen you in forever, where have you been?"

"Oh, we've been busy with this and that," Hermione said. "More importantly, where have you been? I don't mean to be rude, but after the war, you could be doing so much better than this place."

Luna giggled as she handed out menus. "I know… but my boyfriend works here, so…"

"Really?" Hermione said. "Who?"

"Blaise Zabini." Luna answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're dating _that_ jerk?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I'll have the grilled salmon on wild rice," Ron ordered, not paying any attention to the conversation at hand.

"Of course," Luna wrote his order down. "And you two?"

Hermione gaped, still surprised at Luna's new beau, while Harry scanned the menu.

"What's ca-vee-air?" he asked.

"It's caviar- fish eggs," Luna answered. "You know, the little orange things?"

Harry looked positively appalled. "You mean like… like… like Nemo?"

Hermione moaned. Here comes public embarrassment.

"I can't _believe_ people eat fish eggs!" Harry's voice was slowly crawling higher. "I thought being housed in a cupboard was bad- but killing fish before they're even _born_? That's a new level of low. That's cruel- cruel and unusual punishment! 8th amendment of the US Constitution! Will _someone_ call PETA here?"

It was at this time Hermione began slipping on the blonde wig she brought to disguise herself in case something like this ever happened. She also adopted a Russian accent.

Luna, meanwhile, had pulled out her cell phone. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't their number… PETA's, that is. I do have 4 different psychiatrist numbers on my contact list though, people are always giving them to me for some reason."

Ron interrupted. "My napkin looks like a birdie!

Hermione groaned. "It's called napkin folding."

Harry got distracted by this comment as well and forgot about the fish eggs. "Why do I have four different knifes? What if a psycho comes here? Then he could stab someone in four different designs."

"DID SOMEONE SAY PSYCHO?" Everyone looked up. A small girl who looked to be around 13 years old whisked her way over. She had golden hair, bejeweled glasses, and a bossy voice. Her robes were an emerald green and a quill and parchment were hovering before her. "Margaret Skeeter here, reporting to you _live_ from Phoenix Tears, the restaurant on 5th street, Diagon Alley. I am standing before none other than Harry Potter _himself_, who has just admitted to his clinically insane mental condition."

"Skeeter? Did you say Skeeter, as in Rita Skeeter?" Hermione asked.

The girl nodded. "She's my auntie. I aim to be just like her someday."

Ron snorted. "You poor, poor, misguided soul."

"Shut the hell up," Margaret said stonily. "No one wants to hear your opinion, redhead."

Hermione sniggered. "Just like old Rita."

Margaret smiled. "Thanks! Now, Mr Potter, what are you _doing_ here tonight?"

Harry smiled. "Well, I have just found out about caviar, so I think I'm going to have to create a society for the promotion of baby fish welfare. I'll call it… SPBFW."

"Bless you," Luna said.

"You know what?" Hermione interrupted. "Harry and I will both just have a salad. Thanks, Luna."

Luna nodded and left.

Margaret welcomed herself to the seat next to Hermione. "So, Mr Potter, what do you think about Hermione ordering for you?"

Harry shrugged. "I've learned that with Hermione, you do what she says and you'll probably end up alive."

"Even when it comes to salad?"

"Even then."

"Will you marry me?"

"No."

"Fine…"

"Look Hermione!" Ron pointed up, to where he had charmed a water jug to fly. It was currently quavering above another customer's head. Suddenly, it tipped, and a hauntingly familiar greasy head was drenched in water.

"Mister. Weasley."

"_Snape_?"

"Miss Granger!"

"Professor McGonagall?"

"SNAPE AND MCGONAGALL ARE ON A DATE?"

Harry scampered over to the unlikely pair. "Hello, would you like to become an official member of SPBFW? It's a society for the promotion of- OMIGOD HE'S EATING CAVIAR!" Harry screamed and pointed at Snape's plate. "I always KNEW you were evil!"

"Yeah," Hermione muttered. "Forget the fact he was a supposed Death Eater- if he eats caviar, he must be evil."

At that moment, Luna came back with their meals. "Your salads, and the salmon."

Harry's eyes grew wider at the sight of Ron's food. "I bet that was the caviar's mother! They killed a whole fish family!"

Margaret frowned. "Is he alright in the head?"

"We don't know," Hermione answered.

Luna looked concerned. "Can I do anything for you, Harry?"

"Um… bring the cook out! I need to speak to him!"

"I'm not sure you'd like to-"

"Cook! Now!"

"Alright then," Luna hurried off.

Ron, meanwhile, had cozied himself in between Snape and McGonagall. "So, since when have you two crazy kids been dating?"

"We're _not_ dating, Mr Weas-"

"Now don't lie to me, Snapers, I saw the two of you snogging. Lipstick stains don't lie."

McGonagall looked appalled. "Ronald, I never-"

"Here's a pamphlet, though, in case your skills are a bit rusty," Snape reluctantly took the brochure, entitled in large letters: A HOW-TO ON SUCCESSFUL SNOGGING.

"Ron, if that's what you used when we were dating, I don't think it was very helpful." Hermione said. (Oohh… cold.)

Margaret's quick-quotes quill was going mad in the corner. Ron was about to retort when Luna returned, a very angry man in tow.

"MALFOY?" Came the unanimously surprised exclamation.

"Geez, Hermione- first Zabini, then Luna, Snape, McGonagall, and now Malfoy. I though you were taking us to dinner, not a bloody Hogwarts reunion!" Ron said.

"Luna informed me there were some issues concerning a dead fish family?" Draco asked.

Harry stepped forward and began in an accusing tone, "Was _that_ fish," he pointed to Ron's plate, "those baby's _mother_?" he pointed to Snape's plate.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't keep track of the fish families in my-"

"You foul, evil creature! You vile, insane monster! YOU KILLED NEMO!"

Margaret leapt forward. "You're Draco Malfoy? Harry Potter's sworn enemy? Can I ask you a couple questions about-"

"Hey, Weasley!" Zabini yelled from the corner, where Luna was blushing in his arms. "This brochure does help- thanks!"

Snape and McGonagall moved to a different table, glad that their dating status had successfully remained a secret.

"I can make my napkin fly!" Ron yelled as he charmed his phoenix-napkin to glide over other customer's heads.

Hermione slipped on her wig again and began to creep away. "I am not 'Ermionee Granga. I am part of zee exchange studant program. My name ees… Anastasya Ivanov!"

Draco stared at Hermione as she sneaked out of the restaurant. "Wow, who is that chick?" He began to chase after her.

Harry was running around the restaurant, conjuring spbfw buttons and screaming. "SPBFW! JOIN SPBFW! SAVE NEMO'S CHILDREN TODAY!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.

EPILOUGE

_Who-knows-how-many-years-later…_

Ron took a job at the restaurant after Blaise left to marry Luna. His job? Folding napkins.

Draco and Anastasya Ivanov ~cough~ I mean, Hermione Granger, married and had their reception at the restaurant.

Snape and McGonagall had both moved out of the country so they could date in peace, and were never bothered again.

…until, of course, Anastaysa-Hermione and Draco's children came to bug them.

Margaret Skeeter became one of the Daily Prophet's top reporters, covering the aforementioned weddings and publishing the SPBFW monthly newsletter.

SPBFW became one of the most successful non-profit organizations in the world, stopping caviar sales in most countries across the world. Fish everywhere are now safe.

All thanks to Hermione, because it was _her_ turn to pick where the trio went out anyway.


End file.
